


To Say Goodbye Is to Die a Little

by thestarsapart



Category: Leverage
Genre: Episode: s05e15 The Long Goodbye Job, Gen, Missing Scene, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsapart/pseuds/thestarsapart
Summary: The team helps Nate put together the story he's going to tell Sterling. Spoiler for The Long Goodbye.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 102





	To Say Goodbye Is to Die a Little

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Raymond Chandler's The Long Goodbye

“I cannot get us past that lock,” Hardison said, looking grimly up at the screen, which was currently displaying his failed attempts to hack the Steranko in Highpoint Tower. “And it’s not like they’re just gonna let us in.”

Nate was facing away from his team, so they couldn’t see his small but proud smile. It was always a pleasure when Hardison unintentionally fed him a line. He was going to miss that.

He spun back around. “Actually, they are. Interpol is going to walk us right into the server room. And Sterling is going to open the door for me.”

Eliot’s eyebrows twitched down another millimeter at the name. Parker made a startlingly similar face, her brow furrowing, while Hardison gaped at Nate. But Sophie just looked thoughtful. Nate had known she would appreciate this job in particular, since it was primarily a grift.

“All right, I can’t wait to hear this one,” Hardison said, tossing his remote onto the table and leaning back into his chair.

Nate paced back and forth in front of the screen, savoring the moment. This was his last monologue for the team. His last, “Here’s how we’ll do it,” his last “Let’s go steal a black book.” He had thought it would feel bittersweet, but instead he just felt… whole. Like this was the final tumbler falling in a lock before the door swung open. 

“This isn’t the time for hitting or hacking or safecracking,” he said, nodding at Eliot, Hardison, and Parker in turn. Parker sulked, but he could tell she was relieved. Their last round with the Steranko had not been fun for her. “Not to diminish your skills— You’re the best in the world. But like Hardison said, they’ve been training the Steranko on  _ us _ . And this isn’t some rich guy’s art vault, this is an Interpol server. This is the big score, but it’s not worth all of us being sent to prison for life, or worse.”

“Why, Nate,” Sophie smiled at him. “That’s very… well-adjusted of you.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure you’d have been saying the same thing a couple of years ago,” Eliot said.

“Well, I like to think I’ve grown as a person,” Nate waved a hand modestly. “But more importantly,  _ Sterling _ thinks I’m still that same guy.”

“So how is that going to get Sterling to unlock the server room for us?” Parker said, squinting as she tried to connect the dots of Nate’s plan. There was something else he’d miss: the way each of them was constantly working on improving their game. The chance to watch Parker grow into her potential.

“I’m going to tell Sterling a story,” Nate said. “And by the end of the story, he’ll  _ think _ he’s figured out that we already tried to break into the server room, but that one of you was trapped— you, Parker. So he’ll walk me in there so he can catch you and rub it in my face. And while he’s distracted by his ultimate triumph over me, you three will slip in with his mob of henchmen and grab the drive.”

Hardison raised his eyebrows. “That’s gonna take an impressive grift,” he pointed out. “Sterling’s no fool. I swear the man can read minds.”

Nate nodded. “Yeah, I’ll need Sophie’s help to prep for this one.” He caught her eye and she winked at him. He knew the kind of “prep” she was imagining.  _ Not the time, Nate _ , he reminded himself. “But it’s got to be me doing the grift, not Sophie. Sterling has to think I’m totally defeated, or he’ll never let his guard down.”

“That’s right,” Sophie said approvingly. “Grifting is all about giving the mark what they want. Sterling believes that Nate is arrogant, self-righteous, and not as smart as he thinks he is—” 

Nate spread his hands agreeably. “Two out of three’s not bad.”

Sophie rolled her eyes at him and continued, “So we need to give him a scenario that fulfills those expectations.”

“Exactly!” Nate said. “We need to tell Sterling a story where my plan  _ almost _ works, but comes apart thanks to bad luck, or overconfidence. One where I get my comeuppance for thinking I was better than him, and get all of you killed in the process.”

“Whoa—” Hardison said, raising his hands. “Hold up now.”

“I thought Hardison doesn’t get killed until Plan M?” Parker asked.

“No one’s getting killed,” Eliot sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s just a con, Hardison, pay attention.”

“Yeah, I got that part, I’m not an idiot,” Hardison said. Then before Eliot could open his mouth to disagree, “But faking our deaths is no easy thing. Sterling’s not going to buy it unless he sees  _ bodies _ —”

“And probably not even then,” Nate agreed. “But we might be able to string Interpol along for a little while using some good old-fashioned interagency bureaucracy, plus a couple of fake corpses. Just long enough to get what we need.”

Parker perked up at this. “Do we need to raid a morgue? I know where to steal some bodies.”

“While I appreciate the initiative, Parker,” Nate said, as Eliot shook his head and Hardison stared at Parker, “I was thinking we could just get away with ballistic gel dummies and masks this time.”

“Oh, the 3D-printed masks I was telling you guys about?” It was Hardison’s turn to look excited.

“Yep. We’ll need one for you, Sophie, and Eliot.”

“Wait, what about me? I don’t get to die in this plan?” Parker said.

“Nobody’s dying, Parker, it’s a  _ story _ ,” Eliot growled.

“Actually, there’s going to be two stories, here,” Nate explained. “The one I tell Sterling, and the one Sterling figures out for himself. I’m going to tell him that you’ve all been killed, and then he’ll ‘realize’ that I’m lying to cover for Parker, who’s still trapped in the server room.”

“Because he’ll automatically distrust the first story you tell him,” Sophie said. “That’s another part of his mental picture of you, that you always lie.”

“That’s right,” Nate said. His pacing had brought him over to Sophie’s end of the table, and he stopped to lean against it, letting the team pick up the thread of his plan to see where they’d take it.

“But everyone else is still going to be dead.” Parker tended to get caught up in seemingly irrelevant or nonsensical details, but by now Nate understood that it was just the way her brain worked as she untangled a puzzle.

“Parker—” Eliot sighed.

“Not just dead, but traumatically dead,” Sophie interrupted, leaning forward, close enough for Nate to smell her perfume. “This has to be a complete disaster, for two reasons: One, to satisfy Sterling’s unconscious belief in karma. Nate is a conman, a thief, a bad guy—”

Nate shrugged, muttering, “Two out of three.”

“—So the universe is going to give him what he deserves: our horribly tragic deaths.” Sophie seemed to relish the idea. But then, her greatest performances had always been death scenes.

“And what’s the other reason?” Eliot asked.

“Shell shock is easier to play convincingly than grief,” Sophie explained. “Nate’s a decent enough grifter, but he’s no me— no offense, Nate.”

“Oh, none taken.” He lazily sketched a half-bow in deference to Sophie’s superior skills.

“And to convince Sterling, you’ll need to give the performance of your career,” she continued. “The easiest lie to tell is one based in truth. To convincingly portray your horror at how badly things have turned out, you need a story where our fates are actually horrifying to us.”

“What, dying on a job isn’t horrifying enough?” Eliot asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“It’s the details that will lend credence to Nate’s performance, give him places in the script to close his eyes, to wince, to… to shudder, as he remembers how tragic and untimely our deaths were.” Nate loved to watch Sophie work, even this part of the job, where she was just writing the part that someone else would play. “For example,” she continued, “I’ve told you all before that I think drowning is one of the most undignified ways to go—”

Parker nodded. “Because drowned bodies are so gross-looking.”

“That’s right,” Sophie said. “So if I drown in the story, Nate will have an easier time acting distraught than if he were telling Sterling that I had died peacefully and elegantly in bed. Nate’s greatest fear, on the other hand—”

“—is screwing up and getting you all killed,” Nate finished, pleased that Sophie had caught on to his plan, and that she agreed with his approach. “I can definitely sell the idea that I’m devastated by that; I worry about it all the time. It’s perfect.”

Hardison, Parker, and Eliot stared at them. 

“This is morbid,” Eliot said.

“Nate’s being creepy again,” Parker whispered.

“I think it’s brilliant,” Sophie beamed.

“It’s not morbid, it’s just a con. So,” Nate said, clapping his hands together. “What’s everyone else’s least favorite way to die? Hardison?”

“Are you— Are you kidding me?” Hardison glanced around at the team, who had all turned to look at him expectantly. “Have I not made myself clear over the past five years? Falling. Down. An elevator shaft. Nightmares, man. Nightmares.”

Parker looked confused. “But elevator shafts are so fun!”

“Not for  _ normal _ people, Parker,” Hardison rubbed a hand over his eyes. “That’s why most people ride  _ inside _ the elevator.”

Parker just shook her head. “Besides, I’d never let you fall down an elevator shaft.”

“I might,” Eliot muttered.

“Nobody’s dropping me down an elevator shaft!” Hardison said, his voice going up an octave.

“It’s just for the con,” Parker reassured him.

Nate glanced at Sophie as Hardison and Eliot devolved into bickering, Parker rolling her eyes as they sniped at each other over her head. Sophie cocked her head, considering, and Nate pictured it for a moment: Sweaty hands losing their grip, Hardison flailing as he fell, Parker’s face as he hit the bottom. They were both right: it  _ was  _ the stuff of nightmares, and Parker would never let it happen. He suppressed a shudder and Sophie nodded at him. It would work like a charm on Sterling.

“Eliot?” Nate asked, interrupting the argument. “Worst way to die?”

Eliot stilled instantly and thought for a moment. “Failing to do my job.” His eyes flicked towards Parker and Hardison, then back to Nate. “Letting the team down.”

Nate didn’t even need to look to Sophie to know that she’d approve of this part of their narrative. Eliot’s commitment to protecting his team was as obvious and innate as Hardison’s fear of heights. 

“Puh-lease,” Parker said. “Like that would ever happen.” She punched Eliot good-naturedly in the shoulder and Nate caught a glimpse of his pleased grin before Eliot schooled his expression.

“It’s just a story, Parker,” Hardison said. “We all know if Eliot got killed on a job, he’d come back as a ghost to get it done.” 

This time Eliot didn’t even attempt to cover his surprise, but Hardison didn’t notice, just stretched an arm over the back of Parker’s chair as she nodded in agreement.  _ This _ was why Nate knew that he could leave, and could take Sophie with him if she’d have him, without feeling like he was abandoning them. They trusted each other as easily as they breathed. Separately, they’d been brilliant at their work, the best of the best. But together? They’d be unstoppable.

“Okay, good,” Nate said. “Short on detail, but I can work with that. Parker? How do you  _ not _ want to die?”

Parker screwed up her face in her imitation of a thoughtful expression. “Alone.”

Hardison laughed. “What, like, ‘If I have to go out, I’m taking this whole building with me’?”

Parker shook her head. “No, like, by myself. With no one to notice. Or care. That would be the worst.”

The room was silent for a moment. They’d all learned long ago that any attempt to comfort or reassure Parker using traditional methods (tight hugs, clichés spoken in low, quiet tones) usually just ended in confusion on her part. But that didn’t stop them from wanting to. They’d just had to learn her language. 

Hardison let his arm drop casually from the back of Parker’s chair onto her shoulder. Eliot shifted slightly in his seat until his shoulder leaned against hers, Hardison’s hand resting on them both.

Sophie opened her mouth, then closed it silently, meeting Nate’s eyes. She loved them as much as he did; he’d always know that. And she knew, like he did, that the three of them would be fine on their own. Hell, they’d thrive. He reached across the table to take Sophie’s hand and squeezed.

“Well, no one here is dying alone,” Nate said, holding Sophie’s gaze for a moment before looking back at Parker. “Not even for a con.”

Parker tipped her head to the side to rest on Hardison’s hand and Eliot’s shoulder and grinned up at him. “Yeah, not even Sterling would be dumb enough to believe that.”

  
  



End file.
